


newness and balance

by santanico



Category: Coolgames Inc (Podcast) RPF, McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Biting, Blow Jobs, Finger Fucking, Fingering, Hand Jobs, Long Distance Relationship, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Scratching, Shower Sex, Smoking, complicated adult emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 16:41:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11235021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/santanico/pseuds/santanico
Summary: And they do kiss like that until they’re both flat on the bed, Nick holding Griffin’s wrists against the mattress as he sucks on his tongue.





	newness and balance

**Author's Note:**

> \- theoretically set like? in march or april maybe? imo it's always hot in texas

Living two thousand miles apart has its pros and cons when it comes to a functioning relationship. Griffin finds this out when he notices that Skyping with Nick has become more intimate and careful, that phone calls are more anticipated than ever, and when every time he looks at Nick or sees him at an airport, the bursting in his chest overwhelms any other fear or feeling he’s ever had.

“Hey,” Griffin says, wrapping Nick into a hug at baggage claim. Nick laughs into his shoulder and squeezes back, and Griffin pointedly ignores the onlookers surrounding the claim area, pulling back to give Nick a sloppy kiss. 

Nick grins, squinting at Griffin. “You look good,” he says, glancing back at the line of bags circling on the conveyor belt.

“ _You_ look good,” Griffin says, elbowing Nick. “You see your luggage?”

Nick shrugs. “I don’t, by the way. That was a shitty flight. My ass hurts and I have a headache. There it is.” Nick leans over to grab a compact piece of luggage with a Zelda tag he’d stolen from Griffin still hanging on it from a couple of years ago. “Thanks for picking me up,” Nick says, jostling his bag and looking back at Griffin.

Griffin rolls his eyes. “Yeah, of course,” he says, and takes Nick’s luggage from him. Nick looks about to argue but Griffin gives him a look and he goes quiet instead, a smile twitching on his lips.

They haven’t seen each other in three months, the longest stretch since they had first hooked up and considered this seriously when they had spent E3 2016 together the year before. Griffin’s entire body is already itching and on fire but he attempts to reign it in as they get into the car, pay for parking, and drive back out through the Austin heat.

Nick hangs his head out the window, precariously close to slipping off his seatbelt.

“What are you, a dog?” Griffin scoffs, glancing over at Nick in the passenger seat. He’s starting to notice subtle differences in him. A closer shave on his head, slightly longer hair swept to the side. The stubble on his chin looks two-days old as opposed to the usual one-day. The skin under his eyes is shaded blue with exhaustion and Nick punctuates that thought for Griffin by yawning and leaning back in his seat.

“It’s been a while since Texas,” Nick says, grinning with his head lopsided. “Hey. I missed you.”

Griffin smiles, focusing on the road. “I missed you, too,” he says. He wants to add _more than you know_ but Nick knows.

Nick praises the A/C in Griffin’s apartment and flops down on the couch, legs spread and one dangling off the side. Griffin takes Nick’s bag to his room and leaves it on the floor, coming back.

“Where’s the cat?” Nick says.

“Probably sleeping. She’s a nocturnal baby girl.”

Nick hums. His eyes are closed and he’s smiling, but he does look like he’s about to fall asleep.

“Hey, Griff?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I take a nap?”

“Here?”

Nick opens one eye. “I mean, it is comfortable,” he says.

“I have actual blinds in my bedroom,” Griffin says.

“Alright, alright.” Nick pulls himself up and yanks off his t-shirt. More differences. He’s got a tan line that stops near his collarbone, and he’s starting to develop leaner muscles in his chest and stomach. Nick drops the shirt on the couch and lumbers towards the bedroom, stretching his arms over his head.

“Hey,” Griffin says, and Nick looks at him, rubbing at his left eye.

“Yeah?”

“Can I join you?”

“Sure.”

Nick doesn’t miss a beat, opening the bedroom door and shucking off his jeans and socks. He does sort of smell like an airplane - that weird, staticky scent people get, although Griffin doesn’t find it entirely unpleasant - but he doesn’t seem to care as he wraps an arm around one of Griffin’s pillows and buries his face in it.

Griffin takes off his shoes and socks, leaving them near the bedroom door. He takes off his shirt too but leaves on his shorts, crawling into the other side of the bed. It’s a queen, just big enough to comfortably fit the two of them without having to worry too much about wiggle room.

Nick opens one eye to peek at Griffin.

“Hey,” he says.

Griffin closes the distance to kiss him. Nick kisses back, more sturdily than Griffin expected, cupping Griffin’s cheek with his left hand. Griffin shimmies a bit and touches Nick’s bare hip. Nick makes a soft noise in his throat.

“Missed you,” Griffin says. He can’t help it. Nick kisses him again, licks into his mouth and leans into it. Griffin rolls on top of him, pinning Nick gently to the bed. Nick smiles at him, eyes still glazed over.

“You’re already hard,” Nick says, pushing his thigh between Griffin’s legs and rubbing at his erection.

Griffin bites his lips. “I meant it,” he says. “I miss you.”

Nick rubs his leg against Griffin’s crotch again and Griffin lets out a shaky breath.

“I missed you too,” Nick says, licking his lips. “Can I suck you off?”

Griffin blinks then squeezes his eyes shut.

“Sure, yeah,” Griffin says, and they swap position. Nick pulls down Griffin’s shorts and makes quick work of sucking his dick. His hair partially blocks the view but Griffin stares, mouth open but unspeaking, as Nick takes his cock soundlessly. Griffin pulls Nick’s hair and Nick makes a small, unexpected noise in the back of his throat and sucks harder. Griffin pulls, more seriously. Nick squeezes his hips and swallows.

They settle into a quiet rhythm, Griffin clutching at Nick’s hair and Nick sucking steadily until Griffin shudders and grinds his hips into Nick’s mouth. Griffin makes a noise akin to a warning, giving Nick’s hair too sharp tugs before he comes, spilling into Nick’s open mouth.

“Sorry,” Griffin says, breathless.

Nick tucks in against his side.

“I’m taking a nap now.”

Griffin lies awake, naked in bed, as Nick dozes off next to him.

-

Griffin wakes up at two o’clock, and Nick isn’t next to him anymore.

He stares at the ceiling, considering for a moment as he draws the courage to get out of bed.

Nick had been in Austin for SXSW the last time they had seen each other.

He had said, “Yeah, well, my brother isn’t staying anywhere fancy, so can I crash at yours?”

“Of course,” Griffin said, and they’d messed around in Griffin’s kitchen for the first time, Nick constantly making jokes about dirty counters and having to clean up after themselves. Griffin’s cock twitches at the memory but he ignores it. Nick with his hair brushed away from his eyes, grinning up at Griffin, kneeling on the tile, asking Griffin to fuck his mouth.

“God,” Griffin mutters, swinging his legs out of bed. He grabs his shorts and shirt off the floor and pulls them on before walking into the hall. Nick on the couch with Griffin’s Switch, scrolling through the small library of games Griffin has on it.

“Having fun?” Griffin says. Nick looks over his shoulder and grins.

“Sorry,” he says. “Fell asleep on you in there.”

“I did too,” Griffin says, cracking his neck. “You sleep okay?”

“Great,” Nick says, looking back at the handheld screen. “You’ve basically _only_ played Breath of the Wild and Shovel Knight, haven’t you?”

Griffin shrugs, walking into the living room space. He plucks the Switch screen from Nick’s hands.

“Don’t you have your own?”

“God, Griffin, I didn’t bring it with me,” Nick says, feigning whininess. Griffin smiles even as he pretends to be annoyed. “I’m bored.”

“Yeah well, no shit. There’s nothing to do.”

Griffin plops on the couch and Nick drops his head into his lap immediately, peering up at him. “That’s not true.”

“What?” Griffin says, carding his fingers through Nick’s hair. “Gonna blow me again?”

Nick scooches a little closer. “D’you want me to?” he says, rolling onto his stomach and palming Griffin through his shorts.

Griffin knocks his hand out of the way and Nick rolls back over, laughing. “I’m thirty. It’s been years since I fucked twice in three hours.”

Nick giggles. “Love when you get all older boyfriend on me,” he says, and Griffin would roll his eyes again at the teasing, but the word ‘boyfriend’ stands out.

“Love when you call me your boyfriend,” he says, despite how the blood immediately rushes to his face. Nick watches him, expression stabilizing, and then he presses a kiss to Griffin’s stomach.

“Me too,” he says, and sits up. “Wanna like, go out, or something?”

“Really? I figured you’d be busted from the flight.”

“Kinda,” Nick says. “I mean, I’m jetlagged for sure, but I’m definitely gonna be awake all night if we don’t do anything.”

Griffin shrugs. “Not such a bad thing,” he says before he can even think about it.

Nick grins. “Someone’s horny,” he says, rubbing his thigh against Griffin. “But you _just_ said…”

“Yeah, well, didn’t say anything about you, did I?”

Nick laughs with an edge of hysteria and Griffin catches his mouth to kiss him. In all the years and all the relationships Griffin’s had, he’s never had such a jolt just from kissing someone. 

“We could smoke instead,” Griffin says when they pull apart.

Nick laughs. “That your idea of a date?”

“No,” Griffin says, scratching his fingers along Nick’s shave. “But we haven’t smoked together in like, a year.”

“Last E3,” Nick says. “The day before we hooked up.”

“Thank you for the reminder, Nicolas. It that a yes?”

“Sure,” Nick says. “Why not?”

Griffin has a jar of weed tucked in his underwear drawer. He isn’t sure why he hides it but it seems presumptuous to leave it on a shelf or out in the open or something. He grabs the little packet of papers for rolling he keeps next to the jar and heads back into the living room. Nick sits on the floor, legs under the coffee table, and opens the packet to take out a paper.

“You’re still better at this than me,” Griffin says, watching Nick carefully fill the paper and make a joint. He does it fast but sloppy. “Shit. I don’t have my lighter on me.”

“I gotcha,” Nick says as he finishes rolling the joint. He hands it to Griffin and takes out a lighter from his pocket. “Sorry, I had a cigarette earlier.”

“Thought you were kicking that particular habit.”

Nick’s face drops.

“Sorry, sorry, Nick, I don’t mean - you know I don’t mean anything by it, yeah?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Nick says, handing over the lighter. Griffin lights the joint and takes a drag. It’s sweet and hot on his tongue. He lets it sit in his lungs and then blows out through his mouth towards the floor. “When was the last time you did this?”

“Uh, probably in Portland,” Griffin says, as Nick takes the joint. “Shit. This weed’s kinda old.”

Nick chuckles and then coughs. “It’s chill,” he says. They split the joint until it’s down to its final dregs and Griffin stands up to drop it on the patio outside. He puts on shoes to stub it out and lingers in the hot air for a minute. When he steps back inside, he notices a difference almost immediately.

“Shit. It’s gonna smell like weed in here.”

“Wanna smoke outside?”

“Yeah.”

They switch to the patio. Griffin loves this patio. They can see some of the city from the third floor and even with the sun blaring, the overhang from the apartment above keeps them from burning. Nick rolls another joint and smokes. They pass it back and forth until it dies. By then it’s been an hour, and Griffin is starting to feel it - more than he has in a while.

“Shit. I’m hungry.”

“No dip,” Griffin giggles as Nick glares at the last bit of the joint and crushes it under his shoe. “We could order in or something.”

“Like what?”

Griffin can literally only think of pizza and Chinese takeout. 

“Your weed sucks,” Nick says, just as Griffin says “Med...iterranean?”

“Mediterranean?” Nick repeats.

“My weed sucks?”

“Yeah, dude. I’m surprised you’re, you know.”

“Jesus, you California boys are so picky.”

Nick laughs at that. “Do you really want Mediterranean?”

Griffin hesitates. “I don’t. But I couldn’t think of anything except pizza.”

“I like pizza,” Nick says, “but I’m gonna need to smoke another to catch up with you.”

“I’ll go order it,” Griffin says. He heads back inside, leaving Nick and the weed behind. He shivers. The A/C is still blasting, and the difference is palpable. He orders online from a nearby local place he trusts. He restrains himself, even as his stomach grumbles. One large pizza. Between the two of them, it should be enough.

Griffin leans against the kitchen counter after making the order, watching Nick smoke on the patio. Nick’s sitting in one of the chairs with his feet on the cushion, his knees spread wide to accommodate the rest of him as he sucks on the joint. It still smells vaguely like weed and Griffin sighs but doesn’t bother to worry about it. He stares at Nick until Nick glances over his shoulder and waves at him, as if Griffin needs to be reminded that he’s there.

Griffin waves back.

The delivery shows up just as Nick comes inside.

“Perfect,” Griffin says. He makes small-talk with the teen holding their pizza, who smiles at them politely and blinks a bit at the thirty dollars Griffin hands him. “Keep the change, dude. I can’t figure that shit right now.”

Together, Nick and Griffin eat the pizza straight from the box across from each other at the kitchen counter.

Nick’s definitely high now, shoveling half of his piece into his mouth and chewing for a few seconds before he says, “I fucking love your apartment, dude.”

“Me too,” Griffin says, pulling a bottle of ranch from his refrigerator. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Nick keeps eating. They leave one slice and end up on the living room floor, this time Nick holding Griffin’s 3DS and Griffin’s head in his lap.

“You didn’t bring your DS?” Griffin says some twenty minutes later, knocking his knuckles against Nick’s knee.

Nick shrugs. “I don’t wanna grab it from my carry-on,” he says.

“Your carry-on’s like, in the bedroom. It’s ten feet away.”

“I’m high, dude, shut up.”

“What’cha playing?”

“Not Pokemon, you dweeb.”

“Shut up,” Griffin laughs. “You love Pokemon.”

Nick hums. He plays whatever he’s playing for a while as Griffin stares at the ceiling. He has a ceiling fan, but it isn’t going right now - with the A/C they don’t need it. There’s a tiny little crack in the ceiling, near where the fan and light is installed. He wonders how long that’s been there.

“I wish we had weekends like this more often,” Griffin says.

“Me too, bud,” Nick says. He closes the DS and sets it down. He scritches his fingers through Griffin’s hair. Griffin hums. “That nice?”

“It is,” Griffin says. “You like when I pull your hair.” He glances up to make sure Nick hasn’t recoiled. His face is a tiny bit flushed, but he doesn’t look away.

“Just picking up on that, smartass?”

Griffin shakes his head. “I have lots to learn.”

Nick takes in a sharp breath. “Yeah, me too.”

“What else do you like?”

“God, Griff, right now?”

“I dunno,” Griffin says. “We’ve been here all day and I haven’t gotten you off.”

“Can I grab a beer, first?”

Griffin sits up with a groan. “Fine, sure, but only if you grab me one too.” The high is still lingering, though it’s starting to wear off and Griffin doesn’t wanna smoke again. Nick hurries to the kitchen and snaps open a couple of bottles of some fruity stuff that had been stuck at the back of Griffin’s refrigerator.

“Blackberry,” Nick says, handing one to Griffin. “I’ve never had this.”

“I don’t remember buying it,” Griffin admits, eyeing the label. He takes a slug. “Maybe that’s why it was in the back. It’s too sweet.”

Nick takes a drink too. “I like it,” he says, and Griffin chortles.

“So?”

“Gimme a minute.”

Griffin waits. Nick drinks out of the beer a couple more times then folds his legs up to his chest. He’s taps his fingers against his knee and sighs. Griffin manages not to say anything, not wanting to push. “Scratching,” Nick says.

Griffin tilts his head back. “Performing or receiving?”

Nick blanches. “Both,” he says. “I - I guess there’s just, when you’re…” He trails off and glances away and Griffin wonders why. “When you’re with someone and you just want the rest of the world to disappear.”

Griffin nods, although Nick is refusing to look back at him. “That makes sense. I can’t say I’ve ever - you know, I mean, maybe accidentally in the heat of the moment.”

Nick rests his chin on his knees and hugs his legs. “I like the way it looks.” He closes his eyes. “Like, thin red lines on someone’s back. On - on my own back.”

“Hey,” Griffin says, scooting closer. He rubs his fingers across Nick’s shave again and Nick twitches a little but doesn’t pull away. “You okay?”

“It’s embarrassing,” he says.

Griffin points at the beer. Nick laughs a little and takes a few more gulps.

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

“But I do,” Nick says, his voice strained and pitched a little higher than normal. “So bad, Griff. I wanna do everything with you.”

“Oh. Well, then, I’m all ears.”

“You’ve done it before but I - I really like when you finger my mouth.” Griffin swallows. “Or when you touch my lips or...or _anything_ really. Sucking your cock or your fingers or…” He trails off again and releases a tiny, sharp laugh. “Anything, really.”

“God,” Griffin says. Nick glances at him. “Sorry. You can - you can keep going.”

“That’s not fair,” Nick whines. “What do you like?”

Griffin’s head swims. “I like making you moan. Your voice. I like when you tell me how you’re feeling, I...I like when you squirm when I pin you down, even if it’s just...just for fun.”

“Shit,” Nick says, dropping his head between his legs.

“Please don’t hide,” Griffin says, squeezing the back of his neck. Nick makes another sound that Griffin can’t quite comprehend. “Nick, hey.”

Nick lifts his head. His face is still flushed and his legs are quivering.

“I like when you’re a tease and I love pushing you. I wanna - I wanna tie you to my headboard for real, someday. God,” he laughs. “I wanna eat your ass. Sorry.”

“For what?” Nick says, his voice sounding more tense and strangled.

“Kinda gross?”

“God, I don’t care,” Nick whispers. “Thank you.”

“You okay?”

“I’ve been half-hard since we napped earlier so yeah, I’m peachy.”

Griffin tugs Nick into his lap and they start to kiss again. Nick tastes like beer and weed. He’s gasping more than Griffin is used to from just kissing but it’s hot as hell and Griffin palms Nick through his jeans.

“Here?” Nick says, breathless.

“Shit, I mean, shit. Okay, lemme get a towel, get on the couch.”

Nick scrambles off of Griffin and sits on the couch. Griffin grabs a towel from the bathroom and tosses it on the cushions. “Sorry,” he says again, scratching the back of his head. “Not very sexy.”

Nick shakes his head. “Don’t care,” he says.

Griffin grabs Nick by the front of his t-shirt and they start kissing again, this time on top of the towel. The couch is just big enough to support them both, and Griffin is suddenly thankful for the cash he blew on these nice throw pillows as Nick lays back, his head propped up on one leaning against the arm of the couch.

He sucks on Nick’s tongue until Nick is grinding up against him, and then Griffin pushes Nick’s hips down and unbuttons his jeans, tugging them past his hips.

“Griffin, please,” Nick whispers, and they work together to yank Nick’s shirt off. He’d look silly, cock straining in his boxers and jeans halfway down his thighs, if Griffin didn’t find him so fucking hot. He rakes his fingernails down Nick’s chest and Nick jumps like he’s been electrocuted, releasing a broken moan and arching into Griffin. Griffin sucks on Nick’s nipples in turn until they’re hardened peaks on his chest, and then he tweaks them between his fingers until Nick moans, “Please,” again and drops his head on the pillow.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Griffin says, dragging his fingers down Nick’s stomach, a little harsher this time. Nick brings a fist to his mouth to stifle the noise he makes, but it’s still enough that Griffin’s cock throbs in his shorts. “I just wanna keep you going like this ‘til you fall completely apart.”

Nick pants. “Please, please, please be nice,” he says, voice still strained. He clutches at Griffin’s shoulders, tugging at his shirt, and Griffin sits back to pull it over his head. Nick digs his fingernails into Griffin’s skin and it’s not something Griffin had ever noticed before but the pain sends a sharp surge through his entire body.

“You’re gorgeous,” Griffin says, and Nick pulls him in close. Griffin balances on the couch as they kiss again, sloppier and with Nick rutting his hips, trying to find friction. Griffin rocks down against him, pressing his thigh into Nick’s hard-on as Nick sucks on his bottom lip. “Okay, Nick, I’m gonna need…”

Nick turns his head away and squeezes his eyes shut. Griffin smiles and presses kisses to his cheek and then down his neck, scraping his nails along Nick’s sides. Nick flinches and squirms and finally collapses back onto the couch, breathing hard.

“Sorry I made you wait so long,” Griffin says, looking at Nick’s ribs and stomach and the lines of his muscles leading down to his hips and then under his boxers. His cock is still pressed against the fabric, near the tip of the waistband, the line of it perfectly visible.

Griffin tugs Nick’s underwear down just far enough to release the head, and presses his tongue to it.

“Griffin, Griffin, God, please,” Nick hisses, and he digs his nails into Griffin’s shoulders with even more force this time.

Griffin mouths the tip and then untucks the rest of Nick’s cock, staying bent over as he wraps his fingers around the shaft. He strokes Nick slowly and Nick’s scratching more wildly now, his nails likely leaving imprints in Griffin’s skin. Griffin fits the first inches of Nick’s cock in his mouth and starts to suck, building up an easy rhythm as he bobs his head and gradually takes more.

“Oh, _fuck_ , Griff, your mouth, your face, you’re so fuckin’...” Nick trails off, clenching Griffin’s shoulders again.

Griffin hums and sits up a bit to pull Nick’s boxers down. He lets himself stare for a second until Nick whines above him, and then he rolls Nick’s balls in his palm, one at a time, still gripping the length of his cock in his other hand. 

It’s precarious with the way he’s sitting, still bent over between Nick’s legs, but it’s worth it for the way Nick loses his breath and releases a long string of curses.

Griffin squeezes Nick’s balls one more time and then tongues along a vein up Nick’s cock, pausing to mouth the shaft and then suck on the head again.

Griffin pops off and, looking Nick in the eyes, drags his nails down Nick’s inner thighs.

“Shit, shit, fuck,” Nick gasps, bucking his hips again. “God. That’s - that’s a lot.”

“Yeah? In a good way?” Griffin does it again and Nick moans, throwing his arm across his face. “Hey. Look at me, buddy.”

Nick huffs but drops his arm, tilting his head down to look at Griffin again. He does it a third time, hard strokes of his fingers, and Nick nearly convulses, scraping his nails against the couch and throwing his head back. 

“Okay, okay,” Nick says, “I get it. God.”

Griffin kisses him and jerks his cock. Nick ruts his hips again, grabbing at Griffin’s shorts to pull them down his hips. They struggle to free Griffin’s cock but when they do, Nick hooks a leg around Griffin’s waist and they manage to rub their hips together, Griffin’s cock sliding past Nick’s.

At this point, Griffin doesn’t care. He holds Nick as close as possible, remembering what he said earlier, digging his nails into Nick’s back and dragging them downward. Nick’s breath hitches and he makes a choked sound, reaching between their bodies to grip their cocks as they each thrust, trying to garner another rhythm. 

Griffin scratches at Nick until Nick is arching and gasping, begging Griffin in relentless, quick nonsense sentences, rambling, “Please, I gotta, I miss, I need - faster, harder, you’re so,” until he runs out of breath and returns to sucking his breaths hard through his mouth.

Nick’s jerking them off with sloppy motions while they rut against each other, Griffin’s face buried in Nick’s neck, mouth pressed on his pulse. They’re both sticky with sweat and Griffin’s legs are starting to hurt, his left arm is getting burn from the couch, but they’re chasing it now, Griffin’s close and he knows if they stop he’ll never not regret it.

Nick’s holding him with his free arm, is the thing. Between desperate muttering about how good it feels, or how good Nick is, how hot he is like this, Griffin can only think of how close they are, how nothing in the world has ever mattered like _this_. They’ve had sex, they’ve fucked, they’ve touched each other and they’ve jerked off over phone or Skype calls, but it’s overwhelming how close he is right now, how close to Nick, how captured by this moment, with all the aches and frustrations and love in him.

Nick half-shouts, half-sobs, “I’m gonna - Griffin, I’m gonna,” and his body stills entirely as he tenses and then comes across their chests and stomachs. He collapses against the towel and the couch, breathing heavily, and pulls Griffin down with him.

Griffin is still achingly hard, his erection now resting on Nick’s hip, in the hollow of it almost perfectly. Nick’s cock is soft and sticky against Griffin’s stomach, and if Griffin wasn’t so wildly turned-on, he’d move, but instead he tries to thrust his hips and find a little friction.

Nick’s skin is smooth and slick and it’s good but not enough, and then Nick is touching him, fisting Griffin’s cock and then moving down to touch his balls.

“Wanna watch you come,” Nick says, and Griffin groans, sitting up again. He’s shaky from the balancing but when he looks at Nick, that all seems irrelevant again.

Nick rubs his thumb over the tip and jerks slowly, then quicker, and Griffin shudders and tries to say something but all that comes out is Nick’s name, and he jerks in Nick’s hand and comes on Nick’s stomach.

“Thank God for that towel,” Nick says as Griffin’s cock softens in his hand. Griffin wipes his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Yeah,” Griffin says, staring at Nick’s stomach and chest. There’s enough spunk on Nick’s chest, pooling and drying in the dip of his belly, that Griffin finds himself full of wonder but also disgust. “Fuck it.” He leans down and licks a line up to Nick’s collarbone.

“Oh, fuck,” Nick whispers. “C’mon, dude,” he says, voice shaking.

Griffin swallows the come in his mouth. “Weird. Interesting, but weird.”

Nick grabs a bit of the towel and starts to sit up, using it to rub at his chest and stomach.

“You’re weird,” he says weakly, and Griffin smiles.

“Shit, dude. I really am getting old.”

Nick looks at him with his eyebrows furrowed, frowning. “Sorry,” he says, quietly. “I’m kinda sore too. Can I help?”

Griffin stares at Nick, still naked, still with comestains on him, and shakes his head. “You’re fucking magical, Nicolas Robinson.” Nick still moves closer, pressing his fingertips to the nape of Griffin’s neck. He rubs at the tension there, then trails down to Griffin’s shoulders, starting to massage in earnest.

Griffin sighs. “I mean it. You don’t have to do this.”

“I know,” Nick says, and nothing else. He works out a knot in Griffin’s shoulder and trails his fingers down towards the center of Griffin’s back. “I love your back.” 

“Oh, yeah?”

“You have...little nail marks. Sorry.”

Griffin huffs. “Don’t apologize. D’you...like it?”

“Hell yeah I do,” Nick says, and Griffin could swear he can hear the grin on his face. His massage is slow and methodical and Griffin thinks he might fall asleep like this. It’s getting dimmer and dimmer outside with every minute.

“Hey, Griffin?”

“Yeah, bud?”

“I’d really like a shower right now.”

Griffin nods. He expects Nick to get up and excuse himself but Nick keeps rubbing. He doesn’t say anything for several minutes and Griffin bites his lip.

“Don’t wait on my account, dude,” he says.

Nick’s fingers still. “Sorry. I was just working up - I want to - will you join me?”

Griffin looks over his shoulder. Nick’s flushed again, not with exertion this time.

“Shower together?” He hadn’t thought about that. The thought is good.

“Yeah,” Nick says. 

“Let’s fuckin’ do it.”

-

Griffin settles into the intimacy of sharing his shower space easier than he expects. Everything with Nick is like that - when anxiety rears its head, Nick’s appearance settles it. When everything’s fuzzy around the edges, he just looks at Nick.

Nick drops his head back, running his fingers through his hair.

“Sorry,” he says, water dripping down his face. “I’ll stop hogging the stream.”

“Hey, don’t worry,” Griffin says, but he steps a little closer anyway. Nick licks his lips and grabs Griffin’s shampoo. “Weird question,” Griffin says as Nick pops open the shampoo. “Can I wash your hair?”

The water’s hot and the steam is rising around them, so there’s no way to tell if Nick is blushing or not, but from the way he goes completely still and tense, he’s at least taken off guard.

“Sure,” he says anyway, and they move so Nick is standing facing the shower head, water tapping against his chest. Griffin stands behind him and lathers the shampoo in his hands, then rubs it into Nick’s scap.

Nick groans, though it’s low and quiet - the shower running overpowers it. He stretches his neck as Griffin washes his hair and Griffin pointedly ignores his cock twitching. There’s no fucking way. At _best_ he can get it up tonight, maybe, if Nick wants. But no way. Not now.

It’s at the moment when Nick is leaning back towards him that Griffin really notices the marks on his back. Nick’s skin is red and raised; Griffin knows he never scratched hard enough to draw blood but the lines are still there, thin and prominent and beautiful.

“Hey, Griffin,” Nick says. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I rinse?”

Griffin drops his hands. Suds rinse off quickly and he trails his fingers over the marks on Nick’s back. Nick shivers and turns around, rinsing the shampoo from his hair. He doesn’t look at Griffin.

“Hey,” Griffin says, putting his hands on Nick’s chest. “Turn back around.”

“Sure,” Nick says, and he doesn’t hesitate for even a second as he moves back to face the stream.

Griffin steps forward, pressing his chest to Nick’s back. Nick sighs. His cock is hardening under the spray and Griffin tucks his chin against Nick’s shoulder and takes Nick’s cock in his palm. Nick is hot and slick against his skin and Griffin kisses his neck and he strokes. 

Nick braces himself on the tiles in front of him, spreading his legs just enough to give them both room to lean and move. They’re quiet this time, maybe uncharacteristically so, but Griffin doesn’t want to say anything and Nick is just biting his lip, eyes squeezed shut, canting his hips to fuck his cock through Griffin’s fist.

Nick comes with a moan after several minutes of jacking him off and they quietly wash off. Nick climbs out of the shower just as the water starts to cool down. His legs are shaking.

They end up curled together in bed, just wearing boxers on top of the sheets, Griffin stroking through Nick’s hair and Nick dozing off, even as it only hits ten o’clock.

“You feeling okay?” Griffin says.

Nick hums and cuddles closer. “I’m good,” he murmurs.

“I can’t believe the entire day is gone.”

Nick nudges him with his foot. “It’s still early,” he says, even as he yawns. “And we have tomorrow. And Monday. I don’t fly out ‘til Tuesday.”

“Shush.”

“Sorry.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Griffin says, sitting up and piling his pillows behind him. “I wanna tell you something.”

Nick stays still below him, an arm draped over Griffin’s hips. He doesn’t look up. “What is it?”

“Just that I love you.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, that’s nothing new, but. We haven’t really said it out loud.”

“No, we haven’t,” Nick whispers.

Griffin brushes his fingers through Nick’s damp hair. “It’s okay. Didn’t mean to drop a bomb like that on you.”

Nick squeezes him. “No,” he says, “I just.” Nick curls into a ball, holding onto Griffin’s waist. “I’m processing.”

“You need to process?” Griffin says, quiet.

“I didn’t think you’d say it today. I didn’t know you’d say it...anytime soon.”

“You were thinking about it?”

“Of course.” Nick’s voice is thick and Griffin keeps touching his hair. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Griffin says.

“I fucking love you,” Nick says. He sits up and rests his hands on Griffin’s shoulders, kissing him. Griffin could kiss Nick like this for hours on end, until his lips went tingly and his jaw was raw from the touch of Nick’s stubble.

And they do kiss like that until they’re both flat on the bed, Nick holding Griffin’s wrists against the mattress as he sucks on his tongue.

-

They spend Sunday morning inside and trot down to a bookstore on Griffin’s block around noon. It’s electric to hold Nick’s hand as they walk, squeezing it every thirty seconds and watching Nick look over at him, lopsided grin on his face.

Nick spends a half hour digging through clearance and Griffin eyes the DVD shelf and ends up with a few paperbacks he desperately doesn’t need. Nick doesn’t buy anything but leans his chin on Griffin’s shoulder as Griffin checks out. 

Griffin says, as they unlock the apartment again, “I can’t remember the last time I felt like this.”

“Oh yeah?” Nick says. “That a good thing?”

“I think it is,” Griffin admits, and smiles.

They don’t say much to each other for the afternoon. They lounge on the couch with video games, Nick playing on the portable Switch screen with his head resting on Griffin’s thigh while Griffin starts up _Prey_ for the third time. He gets a couple hours in before Nick nudges him and they play Mario Kart for a while. 

Nick wins every game.

“Fuck yeah,” he says, setting down his joy-cons. “This is the best weekend of my life.”

“Yeah,” Griffin says, leaning back. “Me too.”

They hit more unknown territory that night, snapping off the lights and without talking about it beforehand, diving into each other. Nick is hurried and high-strung, nipping at Griffin’s ear and rutting against his body. Griffin experiments with bites and finds that Nick’s body stills and then shudders when Griffin scrapes his teeth over Nick’s neck, to his shoulders, and between his thighs. He sucks bruises into the skin he’d scratched the other day, and Nick begs him to suck, bite, fuck harder with every breath.

Before Griffin can blow Nick, Nick rolls over and fumbles for the lube Griffin keeps in his bedside table.

They haven’t fucked like this in months and Griffin hesitates.

Nick says, “Just start slow.”

Griffin fucks Nick with one finger, then two.

Nick spreads his legs, and Griffin can’t see him very well but he can picture the bruises blooming on his thighs.

Nick rocks back on Griffin’s hand and Griffin eases him open with more lube and a third finger. He leans forward and uses his spare hand to fuck Nick’s mouth. Nick sucks on Griffin’s fingers until Griffin can barely think from the stiffness of his cock. He unwraps a condom and slathers himself with more lube, and presses the head to Nick’s hole.

Griffin steadies himself, curling over Nick’s body. He leverages himself on Nick’s hips and Nick sobs dryly as Griffin drags his dick back and thrusts again. He’s so hard it almost hurts, and Nick’s tight around his cock, wet with lube and stretched enough by Griffin’s fingers.

Griffin loses his focus, fucks Nick harder. Nick’s pushing back against him, whining and panting, but every sound is subdued and Griffin rakes his nails down Nick’s back, burying himself inside Nick.

Nick yelps when he comes, Griffin fisting his cock and jerking hard in tune with his thrusts. It’s blinding, Nick’s ass clenching around Griffin’s dick, his body shivering and twitching under him. Griffin doesn’t stop or slow down and when he comes, time goes blurry and then stops and then ricochets back to normal again with aggressive suddenness.

They lie awake, unspeaking, for a time. Nick halfway rolls off the bed to grab a pair of boxers from the floor and pulls them on. Griffin smiles but doesn’t do the same, preferring to wrap himself around a pillow and stare at Nick.

Nick says, “You awake?” at sometime around one by Griffin’s estimation.

“Sure am, buddy,” Griffin says, rolling onto his back and looking up at the ceiling. There’s a street lamp outside that only just shines into the room, even with the blinds pulled almost completely down. It casts a thick triangle of yellow light over the bed, but it only really illuminates parts of their legs. Griffin waits a minute. “Nick?”

“Sorry,” Nick says, and Griffin watches him shift onto his side by the movement of his legs in the lamp light. “Thanks for letting me stay here.”

Griffin scoffs. “Yeah, I’m doing _you_ a favor,” he says, turning his head. He can see that Nick is smiling, his eyes closed.

“You know what I mean.”

Griffin faces Nick and presses a kiss to his forehead, then kisses his mouth. Nick melts with the slow ease Griffin’s only just starting to grow accustomed to. 

“It’s not fair,” Griffin breathes, touching his fingers to the back of Nick’s neck.

Nick smiles again and nudges his nose along Griffin’s jaw. “I know,” he says.

They don’t talk about it anymore.

-

Griffin watches Nick smoke a cigarette on the patio at nine the next morning. He’s wearing Griffin’s shorts, which don’t really fit, and look stupid on him because Nick would never wear khaki shorts, but Griffin doesn’t think about it because he’s instead thinking of Nick standing outside, early morning Texas sun and heat silhouetting him.

Griffin pours a bowl of cereal for himself and eats on the couch, just staring at Nick’s back.

“Believe me,” Nick says as he pushes open the glass door. “I wouldn’t have even brought the cigs if I didn’t think I’d have needed them.”

Griffin raises his eyebrows, mouth full of cereal. “That’s weirdly accusatory,” he says, although there’s comfort in knowing with certainty that Nick didn’t mean it that way.

Nick crosses his arms and shakes his head, leaning on the door. “I mean, just that, you’ve taken a lot outta me the past couple days.” He smiles. “In the best way.”

“But you’re tired,” Griffin says, filling in the blanks.

“Ah,” Nick says, stretching his arms over his head and then rolling his shoulders. “I guess I am. I gotta check in for my flight.”

Griffin flinches. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Nick grabs his laptop, sits next to Griffin on the couch, and goes through the process idly. Griffin tries not to stare at the screen. Nick makes a few sidelong comments about preferring window seats, and Griffin says he prefers the aisle. It’s small talk. It’s unnatural.

As Nick shuts his laptop and sets it aside, Griffin cups his hand at the back of Nick’s neck and draws him close to kiss him.

Nick stiffens. “Sorry,” he says when Griffin looks at him, frowning. He turns his face. “I’ll brush my teeth.”

Griffin doesn’t drop his hand but squeezes, rubbing his thumb under Nick’s hairline. “Don’t do that.”

“But I - ” Nick says.

“I don’t care,” Griffin says. He urges Nick closer again. Nick doesn’t resists this time. He does taste like tobacco. He sighs as he leans back. “You don’t have to pretend like it’s easy.”

Nick drops his gaze. “I know,” he mutters.

Griffin strokes Nick’s hair. “Hey. Let’s go on a date.”

“A proper date?” Nick says, and laughs.

“Yeah. Dinner and a movie.”

“Scratch the movie and you’ve described a perfect evening.”

-

They look for a place Griffin hasn’t been to in the area and Griffin drives. Nick stares out the window but they keep the A/C on. It’s a twenty minute drive with mediocre traffic and Nick says, “I always forget that not everywhere is like California.”

“You’re an ass,” Griffin says, laughing. “We’re here.”

They order beers and an appetizer, loaded potato skins that actually end up being fucking delectable, much to Griffin’s delight. They split an entree too, and Griffin’s glad they did when he sees the plate of garlic shrimp pasta, loaded with vegetables and extra sauce.

“This is really good. How have we never come here before? Or, you know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” Griffin says between bites. “We’ll come back.”

Nick grins. “Okay.”

-

Griffin decides they’re both too scared to act that night and he accepts it and spoons Nick and they fall asleep pressed together like that, pillows splayed all over the bed, Nick nearly curled into a ball with Griffin’s arm around him.

-

“Got everything?”

“Yep. I promise.”

“It’s fine. If you don’t, I’ll just ship it.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Hey. You okay?”

“I’m great.”

“It’s gonna be like nothing.”

Nick laughs like he doesn’t believe Griffin. Griffin keeps smiling despite himself.

They get in the car and Griffin drives them to the airport. Nick’s bouncing his leg the entire time, and Griffin hesitates but puts on a CD of demos he’d been working on.

“What do you think?”

Nick keeps tapping his foot, even as he starts to listen.

“Solid,” he says, as a track fades out. “Podcast stuff?”

“Podcast stuff,” Griffin says.

Nick looks out the window as the new track comes in. Griffin hums along under his breath.

The airport isn’t very crowded. A Tuesday. Twelve o’clock.

Griffin walks Nick to the security line and kisses him. Nick wraps his arms around Griffin and breathes in deep.

“Just a couple of months,” Nick says.

Griffin says, “Yeah,” and gives Nick another squeeze.

They separate and Nick’s hiding any emotional turmoil better than Griffin. Griffin thumbs under his eyes, where tears are collecting on his lashline.

“E3’s gonna be baller, dude.”

“Baller as hell,” Griffin agrees, his voice choked.

“I love you.”

“Shit,” Griffin says. “I love you.”

They say it again, and then a third time, and Nick laughs and shakes his head and turns around.

As Griffin sits in his car, windows rolled up and heat radiating, he starts to realize how hollow the space really is without Nick in it.

-

He talks to Travis that night over the phone.

He doesn’t say much about Nick visiting. Just that he left today, and their weekend was awesome, and he’s excited for E3.

Travis is easier to talk to. He doesn’t question Griffin, not the way that Justin does.

They hang up and Griffin lighter, although still sad.

He checks his phone.

Nick R.  
_just landed. miss u like crazy! cali sux take me back 2 tx baby_

Then, another.

_can i call u when i get home? Like in an hr_

Griffin texts back _yes_ and waits for his phone to buzz.

When Nick calls, his voice is scratchy but excited.

“You’re in the future now,” Nick says.

Griffin shakes his head. “Sure. And you stepped into the past.”

“Basically. Dude. I wanna fucking die. California is just as hot as Texas. Isn’t that illegal?”

“Sure, bud,” Griffin says. He’s just happy to hear Nick’s voice. They switch to FaceTime halfway through the call, after Nick’s had something to eat and crawled into bed. They talk like that for hours, bullshitting, complaining about their brothers and their jobs and having to _keep doing them_. Griffin talks about writing and Nick talks about planning for E3 and booking flights and how everyone’s going to be there and how excited he is. Griffin feels that too, but more than anything, it’s Nick he can’t stop thinking about.

He says as much.

Nick’s eyes flutter shut.

“I miss the hell outta you,” Griffin says. They’re far past the point of feigning disinterest. “Don’t ever hesitate to call.”

“I won’t,” Nick says. “Even if it’s late and you’re asleep ‘cause you’re old.”

“Good one. Real good one. Very thoughtful and elaborate.”

Nick laughs. 

They talk until Nick’s eyelids are drooping.

Griffin considers saying something, but he can’t look away.

Nick falls asleep with his phone still in the palm of his hand, and Griffin watches him for a few minutes before murmuring, “Hey, Nick?”

When Nick doesn’t respond, he hangs up, changes into a t-shirt and boxers, and crawls into bed.


End file.
